The Promise
by Little Moppet
Summary: How do you reach across space and time to comfort a soul that was never meant to suffer?
1. Waking Up

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! I just like to borrow them all once in a while and rearrange the pieces. **

**Author's note: This takes place after Firefly and Pre-Serenity and Far in the BTVS future. Reviews are desired above all else in the world, they set my little heart a-flutter and make my world a better place. **

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 1 – Waking Up

In The Black

There was something in the air. A sort of longing that nagged her consciousness, a distant, faint memory that should mean something. But nothing came. She had long stopped being bothered by this.

In the black, surrounded by the quiet noise of her machines, time was irrelevant.

Sometimes on days such as today, a memory would float up, something distant and delicious. She'd always smell it first and the anticipation would well up deep in her. Remembering the particulars of scent had become her amusement. She could discern the individual notes of gardenia and cardamom in her mother's perfume and how the scent had stayed on that silk scarf, and even now, when all that was left of it were tattered threads held in a hermetic box, the gentle sweetness would draw her into its embrace whenever she glanced at it. She remembers the scent of her sister's hair. This scent has colour and mood and is comforting to her whenever she remembers it.

Remembering is painful, but she forces herself to do just that, to go back and to dig through her vast memory. This is her one claim to humanity. And it is precious.

Recently, she has been dreaming of them all. They come to her to visit, it's comforting. When she wakes she studies herself in the mirror, minutely examines the face that has not altered in lifetimes and looks for the signs of madness. And even though she often goes with no human contact for very long periods of time, she knows that the reprieve of madness is not hers to have.

It is the mirror that draws her again. This is a ritual, a double edged sword of vanity and self-hate. The face is the same as it has always been. Smooth and pale. Golden freckles crest the bridge of her nose. Long honey-brown hair falls heavy around her. Her generous mouth is as always slightly pale and curved in a half smile that has gone from being a touch sardonic to one of infinite patience. Or perhaps it is indifference. She can no longer tell them apart.

It is in her eyes that she finds some comfort. Yes, they are still as always that particular cerulean-bright of youth, but her life is written there. The eyes are bit distant and slightly too blank for comfort. This is her disguise.

How could she let her life show in her eyes? Who would ever be able to meet them? The sudden cold, ageless glint makes her flinch away from her reflection. Her gaze lands on her hands. Her mother used to say that you could tell what kind of life a woman had by how her hands age. She examines hers now with infinite patience, noting the little scars and marks long faded, but still there, underneath it all. And their pale smoothness chokes her.

Her hands do not tell of her life, or her age. He hands tell nothing.

A sigh escapes her as she stands up, and the sound of it is like a bird startled from its perch. Fluttering, rushed, fleeting it dissipates into the whirring of the machines.

Her eyes land on the far wall, on the display case lit from within. In that case is her life. She is tied to the contents of that case not only by her duty and by her promise, but by her very blood.

It's always the blood.

And that startles a memory in her, of winds and towers and skies lit by portals.

She approaches the case carefully, almost reverently. It holds within it a weapon cleaved into black rock. This weapon is not hers to wield, but it is hers to guard throughout time immemorial and forever more.

It has been untouched for over two hundred years. And yet, the blade stays sharp and it continues to sing its song of power.

As she looks at this weapon the nagging memory, that longing that overwhelmed her when she awoke takes her over again. And she sees it clearly now, somewhere deep in the black is a small soul, drifting through this huge world, earning for the unnamed comfort and not knowing how to find it.

The nagging memory, the quiet longing becomes defined, it takes shape and she hears the voice, so dear and precious: "You are the Guardian, bound to the line of the chosen by blood. Do you accept your stewardship for as long as you live?" And there is herself, a child really, facing the glow of a being whose vastness is still incomprehensible. Already aware that the length of her days is innumerable she makes her choice. And knows too that it is her destiny to do this. To guard and to watch and to remember... She looks up, the defiant look of a willful child. "Yes"

And so her die is cast. For all time, she will guard and watch the line.

Through many battles, the line survived and there came a day when there were no more enemies to fight and the line ceased.

And the Guardian faded into fable as she soared into the black where she could rest.

And she knew, knew as surely as she knew her name and knew her blood; she knew that one of the chosen was here. Why, she did not know. How, she would find out. But out there was a girl, scared and lost, dreaming blood dreams and it was her vow to find that girl and tell her all there was. To teach her and to watch and to guard.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Aboard Serenity

The dreams have become stronger, more insistent and more frightening. She whimpers, shivering and clawing at her sheets. "Hush, River. Mei-mei, hush" He tries to lay his hand on her head, like he used to when she was a baby, to calm her, but she throws it off with a growl that is more wild beast than human. She screams, low and thundering and he tries to shake her awake. She will not open her eyes, the dream has her. So he settles for petting her back and she seems to settle a bit better.

_There was blood. A lot of blood and slime and dust that choked you. They fought so fierce, these bright beings flitting with speed that was almost too fast for the eye to register. But not her eye. She had known it the first time she saw this dream. She knew them. Every single one of them…sisters. And no matter what she dreamed, she always recognised the women. Felt their link, their kinship. But this dream was different. The sounds and sights of the battle fell away to a house with a porch and a small blond woman sitting on the steps, smiling at the sunshine. River felt the heartache lift in her, a song of longing, a melody of joy and sadness so mixed up that they were undistinguishable from one another. River came to sit beside the blond woman, knowing that she was her sister, the most important one. The blond turned and River was swallowed by the bright, knowing green eyes. The eyes directed River's gaze into the sunshine where another young woman stood under the awning of a small, but beautiful ship. She was slender and tall and her long honey brown hair flew on the wind. She looked familiar too, one of the faces River had dreamed thousands of times, but she did not feel like the others. It was the glow that caught her eye. The fine, shimmering pale emerald glow that suffused the woman in the ship and seemed to comfort River._

The words float from behind her and she tries to hold on to them, but knows the attempt is futile, for as she struggles, she is forced into wakefulness.

River sits up, cradled in Simon's arms, mumbling something under her breath. His voice reaches her as if through a fog "What is it, mei-mei?"

Her great dark eyes frantically search his and the tears roll down her cheeks and as she speaks, her voice cracking and a gentle smile curves her mouth.

"_The light has come to keep the promise: no girl shall ever be alone."_


	2. Confession

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! I just like to borrow them all once in a while and rearrange the pieces. **

**Author's note: Huge thanks to my Beta, Mistress of the Knight, without whose support there would be no progress. Go check out her story Winding River, leave her a review, I hear it makes her positively elated. **

**Sheydra is taken from the deleted scenes of Serenity, as I will be using the movie as I see fit. Some of the dialogue is also taken from the deleted scene with Sheydra and Inara. The girls of the house are my invention; they would be about 13 to 15 years of age. **

**Reviews are desired above all else in the world, they set my little heart a-flutter and make my world a better place.**

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 2 – Confession

Sheydra's Training House – Outer Rim

Inara Serra finished the first part of the lesson and having tasked her class with writing a small composition leaned against the frame of the portico and expelled a sigh. The wind swirled her skirts around her bare feet and tussled her dark hair. It cradled her entire being in its frantic dance and she stood there, the eye of the storm.

Her beguiling eyes rested on something invisible in the burning line of the setting sun and her lips parted involuntarily to curve into a rueful smile. She did not know where that particular smile had come from, but since the day she left Serenity it seemed to find its way onto her face. The room behind her was quiet except for the syncopated scratching of quills on parchment. Half turning, she surveyed the intently bent forms of her students as they laboured over their lesson. They were so precious to her, these young women who had chosen this life for themselves. She was not sure that she agreed with their choices, but that may be because she had never been given a choice. That conciliatory smile crept onto her face one more time, this one drawn there by the realisation of how the world has changed since her self-imposed exile from the Sihnon. On the other hand, perhaps it was herself that has changed so distinctly that the social strictures she had once found comforting were now nothing more than bothersome tethers.

The scratching of the quills grew quiet and drawn from her reveries by silence she turned fully to face her class. Arranging her face into a brilliant smile, she looked upon the eager faces of her charges. Under her deep stare they lay down their quills and with baited breath wait for her to speak.

"The planets of the Rim differ greatly from the planets of the Core. The people who live there do not."

Noticing the wrinkling of certain noses, she chose to ignore them and proceeded with her lesson.

"Each human being desires the same basic things in life. To be fed when hungry. To be comforted when sad. To know that they are not alone. Just because someone's circumstances differ greatly from your own does not mean that you as people differ. Life on the Rim is harder, yes, but no less so then life in general. Just because the people of the Rim cannot go to the opera nor have vid cards in their homes makes them no less civilised than the people of the Core who have access to those things. If you chose to leave here and travel to see the universe, you will meet many different kinds of people. And one of the most important qualities a Companion must have is to be equally engaging and at ease in the company of a mudder or a minister."

Soft snickers reached her ears. Turning a bit too sharply and sending her skirts flying, she narrowed her eyes on the one who interrupted her. Shamed, the girl bowed her head, but did not look away.

"Would you like to say something, Zenya?"

The girl who had snickered straightened up now and squared her shoulders. He olive eyes twinkled out of a fine face framed by pale gold hair.

"But as a Companion it will be my choice whom to engage. Is that not so?" She spoke with the refined petulance of her age and the social position of her family and Inara was once again struck by the force of her irritation.

"Yes. That is our privilege. But what if you were to meet a great man who would turn out to be nothing more then a bar keep or a clerk?" The girl looked at her as if she had become unhinged.

She knew that what she said would never make sense to this girl, or to many others in the room, but an unseen force had dragged the words out of her before she had the sense to stuff them back down. With a self-disgusted smirk she calmed herself. Inara Serra never lost her cool. If Mal could not make her forget herself, then a group of naïve girls would certainly not get that victory. The thought of Mal made her week at the knees and she had to take a shaky breath to expel the image of him from her mind.

"I do not plan to fall in love with anyone below a Minister's son from the Core." Back in the conversation, Inara smiled sadly.

"I do not believe that I have mentioned anything about love."

Zenya's olive eyes got slightly wider. "But I do want to be married one day. I think that being a Companion is the perfect way to gain knowledge, worldly experience and to meet men who would be husband material. It's all so romantic!"

Her mystified expression told Inara that this had always been the plan, that this is what she believed being a Companion meant. She considered breaking the girl's bubble, but someone else would do that for her. Such things are inevitable.

Zenya's friend, a petite brunette with eyes almost the same shade as Zenya's looked up at Inara.

"What about you, Ambassador?" Inara tilted her head in question. "What about me?"

The brunette smirked curiously. "Do you think being a Companion is romantic?"

All she could do was look incredulously at the girl. She tried to answer, but another voice, belonging to a girl she could not name piped up from the back.

"They say that you fell in love with a pirate…"

Several pairs of curious eyes landed on her and she knew that they have been discussing this, discussing her, ever since she had come here. She felt suddenly very naked in front of them and wanted more then anything to wrap her shawl closer around her shoulders. She resisted.

"They do?" Inara smiled innocently and batted her lashes at the girls. They snickered behind their hands and pocked each other in the ribs.

More then anything she wanted to rage at the weakness of her resolve. This mere hint at her past, just a millisecond of thought devoted to Mal set off the storm within her. Her head would not clear. Her body would not obey.

Another question drew her out of herself and she was thankful to the girl. "They say that he was handsome and ruthless and that he loved you madly and wanted you only for himself. He begged you to give up being a Companion to be with him. You would not. And so you left, leaving your bereft pirate to roam the skies in search of you. Is that true?"

Their eager eyes were burning, intent on figuring out all the secrets of the human heart, right then and there. She was not going to shatter their illusions and tell them that most people could not even navigate the currents of their own hearts with great experience. Someone asked something, but she was still trying to steady herself and did not hear.

"Excuse me?"

She tried to focus and met the curious dark eyes from the back of the room.

"Is it true that you left even though he asked you to stay?"

She can hardly see any of them now, the room has become clouded and distant and all she feels is overwhelming sorrow. A word escapes her, but she is hardly aware of what it is. "Nooooooo." She wants to run away or hide, or take a look at her vid cards, the ones from Serenity, the ones she keeps hidden in her trunks and pretends are out of her mind. But she is saved this time by the opening of the door and the blessed appearance of Sheydra. Compact and fair, Sheydra is her guiding light, helping her navigate the murky passageways of her heart. Going towards that light, towards Sheydra, means coming out of the gloom and she follows that thread of hope. The girls rise one by one to bow to the Mother of the House and exit the class. They turn to look back at Inara with curious smiles, and run out giggling, surely headed to tell more of their friends.

As the last girl is gone, Inara's hand climbs involuntarily to cover her mouth and she just sinks to the ground, a ribbon of silk cast on the wind.

As she is rushing towards the ground without any sense of time and reality a sob so deep wells up inside of her that it comes out a ragged breath. On the ground, she rests her palms against the cool wood floors to steady herself. She wipes the tears rolling down her cheeks, tries to say something, but only her hands flutter, up and down, two helpless birds trying to remember how to fly. Sheydra's arms are comforting around her. Calmed and stilled, she lets herself inhale and exhale, testing herself.

"You should not let these rumours get to you like that." Sheydra's voice has that fantastic quality of being at once commanding and reassuring.

Inara's genuinely confused eyes rest on the quietly resolved face of her friend. "Which rumours would these be, exactly?" There is an edge to her voice, a steely sharpness of a quivering bow about to be launched.

"The rumours of your great romances across the universe."

She cannot help herself, Inara snorts.

She knows this is a most unladylike noise, but it just comes out.

"Romance?" She is testing the word out; because it is not one she uses often nor is comfortable with.

Sheydra's sapphire eyes look deep into Inara's own and a faint smile touches her lips. "Well, yes. You're a figure of great romance to them."

The words are meant to be light and sweet, but in Inara's state of mind they become something far too ugly. A mockery almost, of all that she relinquished.

"Romance has nothing to do with being a Companion. You should know that better than anyone."

Patting Inara's shoulder, Sheydra gets up; trailing the long sleeves of her gown on the floor and comes to stand at the portico. Half turning to Inara, a mischievous smile twitching her lips, she cannot help but grin. "Well, I'm not the one who had an affair with a pirate."

"A who? With a what?" Inara is almost choking the words, unable to control her rising desire for maniacal hysteria.

Sheydra's velvety chuckle dispels the mood. "It's the talk of the house. You know how the girls are. Remember yourself at that age."

Inara does remember and fondness floods her for an instant, until she remembers what they are talking about.

Her fine dark brows knit together and something akin to a scowl darkens her face. "I did not have a pirate."

Her voice comes out shaky and the tears threaten again and just as she thinks that she might cry; Sheydra's kind arms are holding her again. "Hush, little sister…"but Inara's tears are already soaking the front of Sheydra's dress. Why did you leave him if you love him so?"

The question just spurns more tears and soon Sheydra is holding a sobbing Inara in her arms.

Inara is crying like her tears will flood the world. And maybe they could.

She is crying for herself and her broken heart.

She is crying for Mal and his crooked sense of honour.

She is crying for Zoe and the child she dreams of.

For Walsh and his fear that one day, his wife will not come back from a mission.

For Simon and his devotion.

For River and the confusion of her mind.

For Kaylee who is pure of heart in a heartless world.

For her childhood, that never existed.

For Jayne… on second thought, no, she is not crying for Jayne. She cries without noticing the time passing by and she does not notice when she begins to tell her tale to Sheydra.

Does not notice until the first time his name falls onto her tongue and she savours it for a long time. By the time she gets to the end of the story, having omitted the necessary parts, she is barren of tears and able to hold herself together. Sheydra's hand it brushing her hair and the repetitive motion is terribly comforting. The story ends and Sheydra's movements carry on, lulling Inara to sleep.

Thinking her asleep, Sheydra's voice is gentle, "Why did you not stay, little sister?"

Eyes half closed, lips parted, breathing slowed almost to the point of sleep, she answers quietly before slipping into the blessed oblivion of unconsciousness. "He didn't ask."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


	3. The Nature Of Love

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! I just like to borrow them all once in a while and rearrange the pieces. **

**Author's note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and come to read the story. I appreciate your interest and welcome any and all input.**

**Thanks to Mistress of the Knight, my supportive and wise beta who puts up with me and is terribly kind with my work.**

Please review! 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 3 – The Nature of Love

Approaching Pandora, 7th moon of Providence –Serenity 

For River Tam the world was a sensory overload. Not only were smell, sight and touch intensified, but the emotions pouring out of people without cessation clamoured at the gates of her very tired psyche. It had been so for a long enough period of time that River herself had started to believe that she knew no alternative. But sometimes, meeting the eyes of her own reflection or recollecting something about her childhood, she would remember with painful clarity the life she had before. Before the time when perpetual confusion and violence took her over. Before… This one word became her personal mantra. A magic incantation to call up peace. Before the academy. Before the medical procedures. Before Jubal Early. Before the beginning of these dreams where the blood of little girls coloured everything in creation and drowned the world in its viscous, odorous red.

She did not tell Simon about the dreams, did not have the patience to explain in words he would understand, did not have the words.

However, he pressed on with his questions, always careful to be gentle and kind, trying to get her to tell him what had happened to her.

"River, I need you tell me what you remember. I need to know mei-mei, so that I can help you."

Simon is using his doctor voice, as if she's just another patient whose history he needs to get. He is awkward with it, as she knows he always was. Not one for an endearing bedside manner. But he means well. And because he means well, she will try to answer in terms that he may comprehend. Because he loves her enough to have given up his world for her and she loves him enough to know what this sacrifice cost his soul.

The thoughts come, but the words are more stubborn. Unwilling to slip from her tongue in any pattern that could be presented as explanation.

"Took a girl. Plied her with sweets…naïve. Let the wolves in. Didn't know them for wolves." Her eyes flit up to his, desperation and pain shining at him. "Cheaters. Tried to run. Wolves ran faster. Sharp claws. Sharp teeth. Knives and needles. No more running then. Mind ordered…." She stifles a sob, closes her eyes, her slight body shakes with the memory. "Mind ordered; feet did not obey."

His expression shows the true pity he feels. She does not want the pity. Wants to strike out at it, wants to scream that he cannot feel sorry for her, because she can take it. She can take a lot more. But it is like there are two of her. The one within, strong and whole, ready to go and chomping at the bit. And there is the other, the one without, the awkward child with the mixed words and eyes that taste and lips that see and skin that prickles at every sound. And the two cannot be reconciled. Because the one without is the River that has always been, only slightly battered. The River within is the darkness that woke up one day when their needles got too far-reaching and their cold eyes cut her flesh, and this darkness won't go back, no matter how hard River tries to pacify it.

Simon's hand reaches under her chin to lift her eyes to his, his love reaching out to her, tenderness in the curve of his mouth.

"Mei-mei, it's all right. They gave you drugs? Because you tried to escape?"

Her annoyed glance scathes him and she casts her eyes down again, fingers playing with the bed sheet.

"Drugs, like ropes. Hold her down. Tethered… Do as they please, always have and always will. Feast on the sorrow and tears of the helpless. I did not want…" her voice falters again, tears streaming down her cheeks. "To be like them." And as she says that, the ire in her eyes is palpable and raw.

Her anger-pain is a sharp taste in Simon's mouth and he swallows quickly to get rid of it. It does not help. Her sad eyes search his out; the anguish in their glistening darkness holds him in thrall.

"Didn't want to be a wolf. Just a girl." Her voice finishes in an almost whisper.

"Did they ever tell you what they were doing? Why they were doing it? You telling me will help me figure out how to help you."

Her laugh is absolutely mirthless, a cold and bitter sound, brutal in one so young.

"Can't help. Took a girl and thought it was a puzzle. Took it apart. Could not put it back together as it was. Pieces missing all over."

He tries to keep his face blank, but cannot keep the horror away. Her hard eyes soften at the play of emotions across his features.

"Maybe I can put the missing pieces back."

He tries for hope, any hope, but the unshed tears in her eyes tell him her answer before she speaks it.

"No pieces left to fit. Dropped on the floor. Stepped on and they vanished into the dirt." She shrugs her shoulders as if explaining a bad grade, or a boy she has been caught kissing.

He wants to wrap her in his arms and carry her away from all this, as if she were still a small child. Her hand reaches out to touch his cheek. Just fingertips brushing skin. A very tender smile lights her face and she tilts her head to the side like a sleek, thoughtful cat.

"Don't be sad, Simon. Not lost, just adrift."

He understands her, understands the staccato pathways of her thoughts, the legato of her seemingly unattached ideas. Filled with tenderness and love he smiled against her touch.

"When did you get so wise, mei-mei?"

Her soft gaze falters for a moment and flits away from his.

"The instant cannot be…defined. One moment alone in the dark. And then… She came from the desert where she has always been. Gave me the darkness to keep. Armour."

She scoots off the bed, and standing on tip-toes prances to the door. She is so delicate and fragile, looks as if a small wind could tumble her over and carry her away. It is the steely steadiness of her stare that makes Simon shiver and truly realise the hardness that now lives in her. She is back into the undecipherable, the dusky interior of her own logic, where he cannot follow.

River twirls on her toes, sending pearl grey skirts in a dance around her.

"You don't want to follow." Her hand reaches to touch her own forehead, a gesture of an almost-surprise. "It's not very pleasant in here."

She does not give him time to answer, picks up her skirts and starts running in the direction of the common room and the cockpit. She makes no sound, and Simon's footsteps following her seem ever more menacing in their dull, echoing thud.

He finds her in the cockpit, huddled on the floor by the window. The bridge is empty since everyone is still not up. Not wanting to startle her he leans again the doorframe, fingers threading through the loops of his pants, feet crossed at the ankles.

There is an expression of grim concern on his face. His eyes are focused on the one being in the entire universe that he loves, for whom he would do anything. But he cannot help her. No matter how he has tried, he cannot help her. It has finally settled in his head that she will most likely never get better. She will probably spend her life drifting from one period of lucidity to another, never lingering long. The cruelty of that strikes him deep and he winces as if the turmoil of his heart is a physical pain.

She had been a lovely child once. A gift, she had been a gift. That was what he had told the crew, and that is what she was. Is. He must never forget that she is. A gift. The tenderness wells up inside of him and he has no outlet for the vastness of this pain. Trying to dispel the gloom falling into him and filling him up, he glances towards her and just the simple sight of her warms him. There she is, this tiny thing cuddled to the glass of the cockpit window. She is looking out into the black in utter rapture; her trembling hand traces some unidentifiable patterns as if performing a dance. Her lips are moving, a fast and breathless flow of words, indecipherable in their urgency. Concerned for her, at the sudden and drastic change in her behaviour, Simon comes close.

"Mei-mei, what is it?"

She stops her litany and looks up at him with her great dark eyes. She takes her time to look at him; perhaps making sure it is really him, perhaps trying to remember where she is. Her hand never stops tracing the invisible patterns. Resting her forehead against the glass, she expels a great sigh.

"Threads in the black. She tries to make sense of the puzzle, but – the threads are being cut off. No blanket to be made from shredded yarn. Comfort for the cold. And the vultures have begun the hunt."

He has no reply, has no words to make things better, so he settles for crouching next to her and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The stay like that for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, trying to find answers that are not there for either one of them.

"I love you, River."

He tries to tell her as often as he can. He has come close to losing her far too many times. This need to say the words is lesson number one to the ones who come perilously close to losing those who mean most to them.

Her eyes narrow at him, a sadness as old as time filling them. Her voice comes out fragile and full of anguish.

"Drowning in blood. Shallow cuts. Walking among the stars. Daylight misplaced in the black."

Trying to shake her lightly to draw her away from her thoughts, he slips onto the floor beside her, one arm wrapping around her shoulders.

"Did you cut yourself? Are you hurt?"

The look she gives him clearly says no.

"No. I am… All parts operational. Won't…" There is a desperate sadness in her voice, a need for comfort and hope.

He tightens his embrace around her frail shoulders. All he has are words and he hopes that these are enough.

She pauses and gets up so fast that Simon is left wondering what had just happened. Scoots away to the console, looking at him with something akin to desperation in her eyes. She moves away towards the door, there is something ethereal about her movement. There but not.

"I love you, mei-mei."

Pausing at the doorway, one bare foot over the threshold, she turns to look over her shoulder at him. He is startled to see something cold and… He cannot think how it could be but there is something absolutely feral in her face. From the glint of her eyes to the curve of her mouth, everything makes him feel chilled to the bone.

"Cull a road of death through the verse. Hands stained with blood." Her voice softens, becomes almost pleading. "Love me then."

She is almost out the door when Mal's body half blocks her escape route. Meeting River's desperate glare, he lets her pass and watches her disappear down the corridor in a blur of bare feet and dark hair. Folding his arms across his chest, he leans against the doorframe, in a stance much like the one Simon had taken moments before. Mal's questioning eyes stay as intense as ever, waiting for Simon to speak. At the baleful look in Simon's eyes, Mal only shakes his head.

"Lil' River started talkin' 'bout violence again. Routine is comforting, do not get me wrong. Just not so much when it's about death and blood."

Simon can only shoot him a cold glare. He stands up and half turns away from Mal, eyes desperately searching the obliterating calmness of space that stretches out ahead of them.

"Some days are better than others for River." Even he knows that his tone is too defensive by far.

"So you keep tellin' me. But when the better days are the ones where she only breaks dishes and throws about med supplies, you will pardon me if I see little comfort in that."

Simon glares at Mal, which seems to amuse the Captain. That particular smirk appears on his face, the one that has filled with a little too much arrogance and, if Simon read it correctly, much too much weariness.

"What do you want me to tell you Captain?" he cannot keep the annoyance out of his voice and knows by Mal's expression that he overstepped himself yet again.

The captain's eyes narrow and the smirk intensifies. But the tension escapes his shoulders, hands falling by his sides he walks in to stand next to Simon. They stay like that for a moment, caught in the allure of the black.

"I thought you figured out what they'd done to your sister, thought that our little trip to Ariel took care of that." Mal watches Simon's face from the corner of his eye.

"It's more complicated then that. Yes, I know what they did to her. On a technical level. The evidence is there. Her amygdala is completely stripped. Her brain was opened up countless times. How she survived these operations is a miracle in itself. Even with modern technology, it would take months to heal between surgeries. She would have spent majority of her time incapacitated."

Mal seems to be taking in Simon's words.

"So what you're saying Doc, is that she's not gonna get better." There's no hardness is Mal's voice, but Simon still bristles.

"I don't know…the drugs I keep giving her don't last. Her system breaks them all down. Which only adds to my list of questions. And she…" His voice cracks, because he's tired and frustrated at his inability to do anything. "She can't tell me what happened. After J…after the bounty hunter I thought she was better. More lucid. But that medicine stopped working too. Everything stops working."

There is a charge in the air, a current of desperation that spreads its tentacles directly from Simon. Mal's eyes watch the black and he wonders if his life would ever be as calm as the obliterating darkness in front of him.

"You're doing your best, Doctor. Ain't nobody saying otherwise. I just need to know, seeing as I'm responsible for everyone who's on my crew."

Simon expels an exhausted breath.

"I know. Just wish I wasn't so…inept."

As Mal chuckles at that, Simon turns to glare at him with the cold look of disdain. The look has no effect and only makes Mal chuckle harder.

"Doctor, inept you are not. Stuck up and thick-headed, but not inept."

Simon's look only intensifies and, sending a steely glare towards Mal, he returns to watching the black.

"I'll make sure to put that on my resume Captain."

Mal's heavy hand slams Simon's shoulder and, wincing at the pain, he stares in bewilderment at the captain. Mal's eyes are dancing with humour and a bemused smile plays on his lips.

"We'll be landing on Pandora a little after breakfast. Got cargo waiting for us. Pandora ain't exactly a friendly place. Mean weather, mean folk to go with it. Stay on the ship. _Dong ma_?"

Simon nods solemnly and continues to stubbornly look out the window. "Got it, Captain."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Chinese Translation:_

Mei-Mei – Little Sister 

_Dong ma? – Understand?_


	4. Playthings

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! I just like to borrow them all once in a while and rearrange the pieces. **

Please review! 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 4 – Playthings

Pandora - Desert

"Load up people. We got us cargo to fetch, money to earn."

Jayne Cobb lovingly cradled his gun against his side as he followed his Captain's orders. Zoe was loading the last packs and Mal was checking out the mule before they would make their run.

"Come on, people. There's crime to be done!"

Mumbling something under her breath Zoe straightened up only to be greeted by Jayne's glazed stare, as he stroked the barrel of his gun. The door was starting to open, accompanied by the hiss of the wind and fine spurts of pale golden sand whispering against Serenity's sides. Bracing against the winds that were now swirling about the loading dock, Zoe quickly put on a pair of goggles. Jayne was still entranced by his gun.

"Here, put these on. Sandstorms on Pandora ain't the likes you've seen before."

Nodding, Jayne plopped the glasses on under his woollen hat, which only made him look more ridiculous. Adjusting to having them on his face he noticed Mal standing by the doors, already fully geared up. The Captain had a happy smile on his face, while the sand-winds swirled the gold dust all around them.

Jayne had to tie a cloth over his mouth to speak; otherwise his mouth would fill with sand. Zoe too was looking in the direction of the Captain, shaking her head.

To get Zoe's attention Jayne shoved her in the side, which earned him a glare.

"What's he so happy about?"

Putting in navigations information into the mule, Zoe chuckled. "Captain thinks it's fun outrunning the sand clouds."

"Fun?" There was almost hysteria in Jayne's voice. "What gorram _fong tzy_ would think this is fun?"

Zoe had no time to answer as Mal was walking back towards them, a smile of pure delight on his face, a twinkle in his goggled eyes.

Hopping into the mule, he waited for Zoe and Jayne to buckle down and started the engine.

"Wash, we are off. Expect us back in two hours." Not waiting for a reply, Malcolm Reynolds, the taciturn captain of Serenity let loose a carefree whoop and zoomed into the swirling wall of sand.

Mal would not swear on it, but he was pretty sure he had heard Jayne whisper something a bout a _tsi gih fong tzy hway haise wo min. _But then the sands were all he saw and he chased one cloud after another, all the while Zoe glared at him and Jayne swore up a storm of his own in the back.

Slowing down as they neared the town, Mal stopped the mule completely on the wide city square, next to the supplies store. Across from the store was a tavern, named rather whimsically Pandora's Box". Smirking at the sign, Mal gestured towards its door and the three of them headed in.

The tavern was somewhat empty, it being the middle of the day, and they picked themselves a nice place near the bar. Jayne gestured for three beers that were promptly delivered by the burly man behind the bar.

Taking a refreshing sip, still silent from their death ride, all three expelled satisfied breath, even though Mal was the only one who wore a smile.

"Now that was a fun ride!"

Zoe banged her teeth against her glass and winced at the sensation.

"If you say so, sir."

"What? You don't think that was fun?" He well knew only he liked Pandora's sands, but it reminded him of home and being a young boy, chasing dust storms on Shadow.

Jayne didn't answer; far too busy enjoying his beer as Zoe looked around the tavern, scoping the clientele and making sure her eye marked all possible trouble and definitely all the exits. The bartender regarded them with wary fascination, but for now contended himself with cleaning his glasses.

"I figure we pick up the cargo and make it to Persephone in a little over four weeks.

Zoe looked at Mal in surprise.

"You've got a stop-over in mind?" She knew what he was thinking, after years together she could almost read his thoughts, but it was her belief that it was always better to ask than to assume and so she asked.

Mal's calculating stare swept the empty space in front of him. "Haven's a little ways off the course, not so much as to make a big difference. Figured we could pay a visit to the Shepherd."

Jayne grinned, no matter why he smiled, it always looked lascivious, apparently he was in agreement with Mal. "Be good to rest a while." And he stalked off to the dartboards where young men were beginning to shout up a storm over bets.

Arching an eyebrow Zoe threw a sidelong glance at Mal. "Didn't think you have rest in mind, sir."

Mal nodded. "It's time for the preacher to tell me how is that a Shepherd who's lived at the abbey for so many years knows bout guns and battle tactics and has an ident card that gets Alliance officers scattering to do his bidding. It don't make any kind of sense."

Zoe was nodding, but at the same time, concern creased her brow. "I don't reckon the Shepherd'll tell you anything he don't want to."

Mal nodded, weariness suddenly profound in his eyes. "Don't reckon he'll want to." He hugged his mug with both hands, voice dropping low, almost rasping as if he'd been yelling all day, a weary man's voice. "I just gotta be convincing."

Zoe nodded. Then as if finding something of great interest on the far wall, she directed her gaze there. "Got a plan yet, sir?" She tried very hard to keep the teasing sarcasm out of her voice, but knew that she was failing.

Mal's eyebrows curled like angry little caterpillars and he bristled with indignation.

"I got a plan! Well, it's more like a plan to get a plan, but I'm workin' on that."

Zoe nodded with mock solemnity at the far wall, not daring to look at the captain. "Good luck with that, sir."

Mal's indignant exclamation was drowned out by Jayne's growl and a loud crack of a punch landing against someone's bone. Swearing and putting his beer on the bar, Mal headed for the brawl breaking out at the dart wall. Jayne looked like a miffed giant throwing bodies around as if they were weightless. Halfway there, Mal noticed that Zoe had not moved. Turning to look what was keeping her, he was surprised to see her still sitting, smiling blithely at the scene unfolding in front of them.

"Ain't ya goin' to help?"

Zoe's smile grew a little wider, a naughty twinkle settling in her eyes. "I like to watch." Watching Mal's eyebrows climbed off his face, she added a respectfully mocking: "Sir."

"Fine!" Unable to process her words, he harrumphed in exasperation.

Mal's face twisted into an annoyed grimace and turning on his heel, he proceeded to stalk towards the pile of bodies Jane was stacking up against the wall.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Pandora – Serenity's Cockpit

Kaylee was sitting in the cockpit, watching the sandstorm through the window. She liked the way the fine sand was buffeted in the air from here to there, like tiny golden glitter. She watched the golden dust swirl in fanciful little hurricanes within the wind, each making their own little universe.

"Like myriads of falling stars."

Kaylee almost jumped at River's voice. "Hey, River. You bored too?" Above all things in the world, Kaylee hated to be locked up in the ship when they were visiting a planet she'd never been to before. After all, she had gone on this journey to see the 'verse. And when Serenity wasn't flying and there wasn't anything that needed fixing, Kaylee grew restless. River sat next to her and laid her head on Kaylee's shoulder.

"Meteorological phenomenon resulting from convection currents generated by constant elevated temperature of the ground. Don't know why they're in such a hurry. The world will end no matter their little dance. And they'd still be where they were."

Kaylee's indulgent smile fell and she looked at River with concern.

"World will end? What are you talking about?"

But River wasn't paying attention. She sat up straight and tilted her head towards the hallway. "Simon broke another cup. Clay shards falling. Pretty purple cup. I like purple."

Kaylee's brain is unable to keep up with River. "What are you talking about River?"

River casts a disparaging glance towards Kaylee, but smiles nonetheless. "Sandstorm and Simon is clumsy."

Still baffled, Kaylee does not pursue, as she knows that it is absolutely futile for her to try to dig out meaning from River when she speaks in her riddles. River is already distracted and going towards Wash's dinosaurs, balanced precariously on the edge of his console.

"Wanna play?" River's face is eager and flushed and Kaylee cannot say no.

"Sure, what d'ya wanna play with those? Sides, won't Wash be mad? He's a might attached to those things." But Kaylee's only reply is River's chuckle of merry derision.

"Toys are to be played with. Otherwise they're not toys." River's patient voice came from behind the curtain of her hair as she set out the dinosaurs in a circle in front of Kaylee.

Kaylee nodded in understanding, it made sense. Waiting for some sort of explanation, Kaylee looked expectantly at River, who was watching the dinosaurs intensely.

"What do we do now sweetie?"

River answered her with a confused pout. "They're dinosaurs. Eat, sleep and fight. Win and you eat, sleep and fight. Lose and…that's it."

Kaylee smiled gently at River. "That's true. Still, I'm sure in-between they did fun things, like discovering new places and finding new food to eat. You know, like people do?"

She watches River contemplate that statement with great care, as if Kaylee has just imparted a great pearl of wisdom. After several moments, River scrunched up her nose and shook her head. "Nope. Brainpan not equipped with sufficient grey matter for a complex thought process."

Oblivious to Kaylee's confused face, River picked up a brontosaurus and stared intently at its head, having considered it for a moment, she thrust it towards Kaylee, who took it. "You'll like this one. His name is Anatole."

Unsure what to do with it; Kaylee sat it down in front of her. "Well, I think Anatole would like to go on a trip an' discover new worlds. 'Cause you know, he's never been away from his own world and..."

But she hadn't the time to finish as River ripped the brontosaurus out of her hands with a rather loud and angry yell. "Brainpan not equipped with sufficient grey matter!"

She looked so disgruntled, Kaylee smiled apologetically. "It's all right, sweetie. What do you think he'd like to do?" The question seemed to only deepen River's concern.

"He doesn't want. Doesn't know how to want. Eat, sleep, and fight. That's his world." She rubs the belly of the plastic toy, a heart wrenchingly sombre gesture.

Kaylee reaches out to take another toy, this one has wings, for the first time she notes that they have definite expressions, these toys and she puts the bird down quickly, suddenly aware of the coldly predatory glint of it's plastic eyes.

"That's sad, River. Maybe he can be a special dinosaur. An Explorer!"

But River is moving away from Kaylee, scooting back towards the console, carefully setting Anatole the Brontosaurus where he was before. She sighs, the sound is full of resolve and weariness.

"No. Don't! He might believe you…But he'll still be a dinosaur. Don't trick him." She finished in soft, breathy notes, voice low and mournful, Kaylee's heart lurches and River's vulnerability.

She want to reach out and cradle the girl, but as if the softness was never there, River's eyes flash black steel at her and turning away she runs into the bowels of the ship.

Drawing her arms around herself, as if to brace herself against the cold left by River's eyes, Kaylee gets lost in her thoughts. And that is how Wash finds her, curled on the floor with his dinosaurs spread out in front of her. Silently he helps Kaylee put them back around his console and, sitting to flip a switch here and there he lets her have her moment of peace. Her sad brown eyes find his and she smiles gratitude. Almost out the door, she pauses to look back at him.

"You think it'll ever be clearer for her? You know, like in her brain? Think she'll ever be…You know at peace?" Her voice cracks a little. Her eyes, devoid of their usual light are startlingly sombre and unsettling to Wash. He'd do anything to put the light back. Only thing is, he hasn't got the answers.

"I hope so." That's all he's got.

Sometimes hope is all any of them get. Sometimes it's enough. Sometimes…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Chinese Translation:_

Fong Tzy – Crazy Person 

_Tsi Gih Fong Tzy Hway Haise Wo Min – Psychotic Lunatic Who Will Kill Us All_


	5. Unravelling

**Disclaimer: I own nothing! I just like to borrow them all once in a while and rearrange the pieces. **

Please review! 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 5 – Unravelling

Pandora – Centre Town

Zoe had left the men with the mule while Captain and Jayne were loading up their cargo. She strolled through the town, picking up provisions here and there. She liked this time to herself. Anytime to herself really. Not much privacy to be had when you lived on a ship. Walking the small and often dusty streets of whatever backwater moon they'd find themselves on gave Zoe Allain Washburn that privacy. Finding herself in a line at the mercantile, she waited patiently, a hand laid lightly over her holster, calm eyes regarding the world with cat-like sharpness. This was the perfect place to hear stories, mostly rumours, but news none the less.

It was the conversation between two older women that got her attention. Obviously local regulars, they leaned comfortably against the counter, their long grey skirts bobbing with their chatter.

"Och, I heard Miller's boy's come back from that contract colony. Mettie Lian says he don't come back right. Don't talk to folk, keeps to the house. Ma Miller don't talk 'bout it neither. I heard Pastor Keegan say a prayer over the Millers when they came to mass. The boy wasna with them. Folk will start to talk if he don't show up to church. Ain't right."

The other woman, dark braids wound around her head, elbowed her friend and picked the story up from there. "Och, I hear too that Cassandra Sampson, you know she's got the little house next to theirs, heard the boy hollerin' a storm come middle of the night. Pa Miller came to the porch a'terwards, nodded to her like nothin' at all was the matter. She say he looked madder'n a storm cloud."

The man ahead of the women turned to them then and shook his head at their hemming and hawing.

"If the Miller's boy came back from T'ien N'yao, you sure say an extra prayer for him and hope he stays away from ye and yours."

The women, obviously not caring for the warning, but hungry for the information the man had, graced him with wide smiles. The one with the dark braids angled closer.

"And who you be mister?"

The stranger tipped his hat to the women and smiled brilliantly.

"My name's Cadigan, ladies. I've come from Paradiso, heard some tellins told bout these new contract colonies T'ien N'yao's been settin' up."

The woman with the braids, unable to contain her curiosity, latched on the to the man's sleeve.

"What tellins?"

He extracted his sleeve from her grasp.

"They get you to sign up by promisin' you good pay for a short time in their mines. They're mining some moons that T'ien N'yao owns, rich in ore. They say you work for T'ien N'yao for a year; never work another day in your life. Turns out that's got a ring o'truth to it."

The women look eagerly for him to go on.

"Most folk don't come back from these colonies. Those who do? Never right since then."

The women gasped. The man nodded solemnly. One of the women latched onto his sleeve and looked him in the eyes.

"Mister, they bring sickness?"

The man shook his head solemnly.

"Only sickness they bring are the fears that haunt them. Met me a man who came back once. Wasna much o'him that was man. Talked a lot of craziness 'bout what he saw down in the mines. None believed him. Ye will'na be wanting ter know what he said."

But they advanced on him, eager for the gossip. "Talked 'bout beasts rising from the abyss. Darkness taking over the human soul that no church service could tramp out."

The women crossed themselves, muttering prayers under their breath. One of them, voice timid with anticipation, tugged on the man's sleeve again.

"What happened to the feller then?"

Cadigan leaned towards the women, eyes solemn and bright. "Killed himself. Poor bastard. Pardon my language, ladies."

Their eyes were as wide as saucers.

But his purchase was rung through, and tipping his hat to them, he walked out. The women grew quiet and just stared at each other with wide eyes, their faces pale and sombre.

Zoe finished her buying and made her way to the mule. For some reason the story bothered her, and it really shouldn't have. Just another tale told as store gossip. But something about the way the man told it put her on edge. It was when she heard the scream from the way of the tavern that the unease she had kept in check all day poured forth. Hauling the bags over her shoulders and drawing her gun, she ran towards the noise with the rest of the people on the streets.

"Zoe!" She spotted the Captain, already on the mule, Jayne revving the engine; ready to get the hell out of this town gone wrong. Dropping the bags into the back, she hopped up.

"What's going on?" He eyes were sweeping the crowds and landed on a group of people surrounding a young man holding a Bible and shaking it at folk.

Exchanging several meaningful glances and very little words, all three of them had their guns ready and loaded should the need arise for them to shoot their way out of this situation.

Keeping an eye on the young man with the bible, Mal was already dialling the ship, yelling for Wash to get Serenity ready. It was then that the first shot was fired. Everyone froze for a moment, the three of them dropping low in the mule, guns pointed towards the source of the sound. Towards the boy with the bible. Over the hush in the crowd, his words rang out.

"And great daemons shall be spewed forth from the darkness and they shall walk this earth and stain with their vileness all. The prophets speak of the end! And the end is here! I have seen the gaping maw of the beast! We are doomed!"

She watched an elderly pair of people, his parents, standing to the side, the man had his arms around the shaking woman who was trying to reach and touch the boy. But he was beyond hearing now. He was consumed in the fire of his delusions and his madness. And Zoe knew that this was not going to end well at all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Serenity – River's bedroom

Simon watched River sleeping, the drugs relaxing the fret lines from her brow. Her breathing slowing down. She looked so quiet and content. And it broke him to know that inside, she was anything but. He felt a hand slip into his and Kaylee's comforting touch eased him, her body leaning against his side.

"Did you eat?"

Her words startle him and he looks into her amber eyes, still and restful. He shakes his head.

"Come away, she won't wake a while yet. I'll make you somethin'."

And she leads him after her, his guiding light, his beacon in the dense darkness.

_River dreams. This dream is fear and anticipation. It isn't her fear, she can recognise that now with a certain clarity as so many fears that live inside of her are not hers. It's his fear. His desperation, his belief that nothing can be salvaged. His horror rides over her in waves, and for an instant she hears the roar and shivers and her own fear mingles with his. The darkness reaches for her, curls around her wrists, caresses her neck, licks along the back of her knees, hold her hand. She can hear him screaming, but no one can help. They do not understand. Can't feel the true evil of the abyss that has begun to live once again. They're there now. She and him, looking into the black. He steps closer to the ledge, his narrow hand cold in hers. She tries to pull him back, but he slips from her grasp, like smoke._

_Like he was never there._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Pandora – Centre Town

"Why we always gotta be surrounded by moon-brain folk?" Jayne's whine was met by cold stares from both Mal and Zoe.

The boy ranted and raved at his weeping mother and the town folk. But then he stopped. Silent and still, like a pillar. Eyes wild, searching the crowds.

They landed on the face of a little girl held by her father.

"You think you can protect her? You think any of you will make it? The darkness will devour you. And you won't even know what happened. You'll die screaming." His voice drops to an anguished whisper. "Everyone always dies screaming."

He had fallen to his knees, ripping his shirt open and the people pushed away from him in horror of his flesh. Festering wounds gaped at everyone, the four sharp and vicious cuts, swollen an diseased were shocking. The little girl in her father's arms was crying.

The boy raised his haunted eyes to the heavens and Zoe was shaken to see the sky reflected in them, serene and crystal-blue, too perfect a sky for a day like this. Too perfect a colour for his pain.

Something flickered in his eyes, a spec of sanity, a grounding thought. He raised himself off the ground, assuming that unnatural stillness. Little boy eyes landed on the face of his mother.

"Mama."

No one saw the gun held between pages of the bible. It was as if everything happened in slow motion.

The book fluttering to the ground. His hand raising to his head. Steel gleaming in the sunlight. His mother's scream. Zoe's whispered objection. The book hitting the ground sending up a cloud of dust. The click of a cocking gun. The thud of a bullet and the boy falling to his knees, blood tramping the dust cloud like crimson rain.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Serenity – River's bedroom 

_She doesn't follow him, but kneels to watch his body sail down into the black; his little boy eyes open wide and impossibly blue even as the dark consumes him. _

_She feels a hand drawing her away from the edge. She turns to find herself looking at a familiar face._

_The golden one dissipates into a thousand humming lights that brush by River's skin like an invisible wind. She shivers, and nods to nothing in particular._

_She's standing alone on the edge again, the darkness beneath has sunk back deeper into the bowels of the 'verse. A voice carries a message to her and she extends her hands for it to settle in her palm, her very own divine intervention. _

"_Seek out the light, and by that light you shall make your way."_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Pandora – Centre Town

"Drive Jayne." Mal's voice is cold and dead. He doesn't look at anyone, just stares into nothingness, cold and frightening. Zoe sits silently in the back, fury and pain burning her eyes.

Uncharacteristically, Jayne listens. Grunting, he navigates them through the crowd of people who have begun to mourn.

They ride in silence a while; only when the town disappears in a cloud of dust behind them does Mal swear. It's particularly foul and harsh and Zoe cannot find it within herself to disagree.

"Zoe? Mal? What's your ETA?" Wash's worried voice comes over the line.

"Wash, we'll be in the hangar bay in about ten minutes. Get ready to get the hell off of this rock."

Something in the Captain's voice reaches Wash and he confirms without further questions and goes about preparing Serenity to fly.

Slowly, Mal turns his head to look at Zoe, who face still reflects the ridges of her anger.

"Gorram it, Zoe!" He wants to go on, to say something, but the absolute ice of her eyes stops him. Zoe doesn't turn her scary on for no reason and she has never turned it on Mal. Her eyes hold his for a second and he knows what she is thinking. He nods his understanding and turns to keep his own council.

Serenity surfaces throughout the sand clouds ahead and Mal's heart lifts at the sight of her bulk.

Refuge. Safety. Home.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Pandora – Aboard Serenity

"Kaylee, get down to the hangar, help them unload quickly." Wash is all business, trying to keep his worries at bay.

Caught unawares in the public sitting area, having a laugh with Simon, Kaylee sits up.

"We got trouble?" It wouldn't be different from any other time.

"No trouble far's I can say. Captain wants to leave in a hurry."

She hears something unsaid in his voice and the worry lines crease her nose. Simon flashes her a look of concern and she squeezes his hand.

"I'll grab my med kit and meet you down there." Silently she nods and not looking at him again, rushes out.

Simon slides the door to his quarters quietly, trying to not wake River up. His hand reaches for his medical bag when with a rustle of covers; River sits up in her bead, dark eyes shining in the dim room.

"No one's bleeding."

Simon is bracing himself against the doorframe, heart beating too fast, breath all but gone out of him.

"What?" His brain is too muddled for clear thinking and he blinks rapidly at her still form.

"No one's bleeding."

Simon's head clears slightly and he regains his balance. For a moment, they stare at each other and then as suddenly as she sat up, River lies down again under the blankets, barely visible under the covers.

But Simon is already rushing out of the room, med bag in hand.

He's gone when River's head peeps up from under the covers. Her voice is a clear staccato in the darkened room and so comes out haunting and ethereal.

"You can't fix what's wrong."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Orbit of Ariel

The space station is a globe of swirling lights. In the deep recesses of space it looks like a giant ball of white fire. She has given her ID over to the doc yard personnel; her files are being vetted and processed for docking.

The uneasy sense of apprehension settles over her just as the voice on the vid com calls her back to reality.

"Phoenix-7, please prepare for docking."

She inputs the information and sits back as the space station grids lock onto her ship and she is pulled in. The level of her apprehension rises as Phoenix comes to a complete stop. The smiling face and chipper voice of the docking clerk reach her again.

"Docking successful, air lock secure. Welcome back to St. Jude's Dawn Summers."

She nods at the vid screen and smiles. She knows it doesn't reach her eyes, but she hopes the clerk cannot tell.

Taking a deep breath she heads towards the exist, stopping to glance in the mirror. Even although she knows the vanity to be pointless, superficial habits, even needless ones such as this, die-hard. She practices a smile for her reflection.

"You'll do. Here goes."

The latch opens, the air and noise rushes in. As she waits for the door to lift fully the dark silhouette on the other side begins to come to life.

She first sees the polished shoes and the black pants, perfectly draped and creased at the front. Black jacket and smooth pale skin gleam at her. Familiar brown eyes settle on hers with a sense of gladness and unease, both of which are feelings of her own.

They stay like that for a moment, taking each other in, making no sudden moves. He breaks first. Strides towards her, wraps her in his arms and even though she is telling herself to resist, her arms go around him and she inhales his scent. Memories flood her, and for the first time in quiet a while, a genuine smile blooms on her face.

He exhales into her hair, still not letting her go least she flit away again, and draws her away from him to get a good look at her.

"I am glad you have come home, kiddo."

"Don't call me kiddo."

"I'm glad you're home, Dawn."

She lets the comfort of his embrace settle her in, exhales a decidedly weary breath and tightens her own embrace.

"I'm glad I'm home too Angel."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_Chinese Translation:_

T'ien N'yao – Sky Bird 


End file.
